in surprise.
“What?” she looked up at the faces around her in concern.
Blackledge shook his head. “This is the damnedest case. I’ve never seen a kid having the time of his life being kidnapped.”
“Stockholm syndrome?” another agent suggested.
Laura frowned. Stockholm syndrome was when kidnapping victims began to sympathize with their captors. It was an involuntary psychological reaction to the threat of dying.
Blackledge replied, “I don’t think so. The kid and nanny look like they’re genuinely having a ball.”
Laura asked, “Are they just making the best of a bad situation?”
One of the other analysts leaned forward, watching a playback of the tape. “They’re showing no stress-related body language. The muscles of the nanny’s face are relaxed and open, and see the way Adam’s lounging, here? He’s not taking any sort of self-protective posture. These two feel completely safe with their captor.”
Another agent piped up. “In both notes, the kidnapper has made a point of reassuring the parents that their son is safe and in no danger as long as things go his way. He used the phrase ‘I promise’ in the latest one, indicating he has a strong sense of honor and right and wrong. His word matters. As a profiler, I have to say I don’t think this guy has any intention of harming either of his victims. That’s not to say he won’t snap at some point and change his mind. After all, he’s enraged enough at AbaCo to have taken the drastic action of kidnapping someone. So, he does have a breaking point.”
Laura made a sound of distress. “And we’re going to see it when he finds out the trial’s not going to happen at all.”
The call from Laura’s CIA contact came in just a few minutes before five o’clock. The look of abject relief on her face said it all: they’d gotten their extension on the announcement that the AbaCo trial had been suspended.
She put down the phone and said, “He’s got a firm commitment to delay twenty-four hours and a tentative agreement to postpone the announcement for up to forty-eight hours beyond that. It was the best he could do.”
It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing. He and Laura could breathe for another few hours. Her shoulders slumped in front of him and it was all he could do not to gather her up, carry her upstairs and make love to her. Anything to escape this endless nightmare for just a few minutes. But no way would she agree to such a thing. Regretfully, he turned his attention back to figuring out something, anything, to do to help find Adam.
He said thoughtfully, “You know, the kidnapper keeps emphasizing burying AbaCo, not necessarily the trial itself. You already said it to—” he broke off sharply. Mustn’t mention their extracurricular visit to Kloffman. He continued in chagrin, “You said it to me. What if, instead of testifying, I go on a media blitz to tell my story and slam AbaCo all over the airwaves? Done properly, I could probably tank the stock price and get the senior leadership fired. I could mire AbaCo in scandal so deep they’ll never recover.”
Laura turned around and looked up at him doubtfully. “If you do that, you’ll sacrifice a shot at a legitimate trial at some future date. You’d be giving away your chance to get justice for the crimes committed against you. Maybe you just launch a campaign to overturn the sale of Spiros Shipping and get it back.”
Nick shrugged. “If I get my son back, who cares about justice or shipping companies? Even if they skate on the kidnapping charges, you have to admit there’d be a certain justice in destroying the reputations of AbaCo’s senior leadership and wrecking the company.”
Laura winced. “How many people would you put out of work? Do you think you’re capable of destroying the business your great-grandfather built and your entire family poured its heart and soul into?”
Nick had to unclench his jaw to grind out, “How can you ask that of me? Do you really think I’m that shallow and materialistic? He’s my son. Nothing on earth is more important to me than him.”
Laura scowled back at him.
It was one thing to know they were both just lashing out in their stress and panic, but it was another thing entirely to stop the unreasoning fury bubbling up inside him, demanding that he yell at someone, anyone, in his agony. He knew Laura was feeling the exact same way. But it was still hard not to turn on her. They had to maintain a unified front. Work together. Adam’s life depended on it.
Blackledge broke the heavy tension between them. “May I remind you that a massive manhunt is in progress as we speak? Let’s not give up on the idea of finding and rescuing your son outright, shall we?”
Laura glanced over at Blackledge in chagrin. He was right. But it was so in her nature to have a plan B in case the main plan failed, and a plan C if plan B didn’t work out, that she couldn’t help coming up with contingencies for the crisis at hand.
The second video had put her mind a little more at ease. It was a good thing for a mother to know her child wasn’t scared or in pain. And thank goodness Lisbet was still alive and with him. She’d protect Adam with her own life, Laura had no doubt. But there was still the dilemma of how to proceed, given that they weren’t ultimately going to be able to meet the kidnapper’s demand in a court of law.
Nick’s thoughts must be running in the same vein, because he said soberly, “It would be a calculated risk to launch a media war against AbaCo. Maybe it would satisfy the kidnapper, maybe not. And if not, we’d have blown our shot at a trial that would satisfy the guy. What do you think about it, Laura?”
She looked up at him thoughtfully. “I think Agent Blackledge is right. Let’s allow the manhunt to play out while we see what our … friends … can come up with now that we’ve got a few more days to search for Adam.” She looked at him significantly. And in the meantime, they’d meet with Kloffman.
Nick nodded resolutely. “Done.”
She touched his hand lightly, silently thanking him.
He responded, “In the mean time, how do you feel about heading up to Washington for the night?”
She nodded and glanced over at the FBI agents within easy earshot. “You know me well. I’m starting to feel claustrophobic just sitting around here. I’d like to be close to Langley in case I have to twist some arms in person tomorrow. I’ll go pack a bag for Ellie.”
Nick nodded briskly. “I’ll call the hotel and have them arrange for a babysitter.”
Blackledge snorted. “Are you kidding? You’re bringing along an FBI agent to guard your baby.”
Laura glanced at Nick in chagrin. He said smoothly, “Excellent idea, Agent Blackledge. I’ll call the Imperial Hotel and get us all a suite.”
The FBI man nodded. “Morris, you’ve got kids, right?”
Agent Morris grinned. “Yes, sir. Five. I’m fully checked out on diapers.”
“Perfect,” Laura announced. “We’ll leave in an hour.”
Ms. I-can-handle-anything, I’m-totally-in-control vapor locked when it came time to choose a dress to wear to dinner. It was the darnedest thing. Laura stood in front of the hotel closet, staring at the dresses Marta had packed for her, mostly conservative business wear appropriate for a mother who was deeply concerned about her child’s safety. And for the life of her, she couldn’t choose one. It was as if her brain just shut down.
Nick stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower, wearing dress slacks and no shirt, toweling his hair dry. He looked at her in concern from under his towel. “Everything okay?”
The man really was observant. “No,” she wailed. “I can’t decide what to wear.”
He moved swiftly to her and gathered her into his arms. Smart man. He knew something was seriously wrong if such a little decision was hanging her up. His body was warm and humid against hers and smelled of